


The Days As They Go

by paperbridge



Category: 91 Days (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Drinking, Fluff, Gay, It'll get smutty in the end, Jealousy, M/M, Prohibition, Smoking, Smut, They rlly gay tho, Two Guys One Ride, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 09:32:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7709983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperbridge/pseuds/paperbridge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nero's on the run, Avilio's by his side. The two have each other, but they don't really know the other well. During this road trip, the two will learn about each other, connect, and possibly form feelings for one another. This takes place after Ep 4 and before Ep 5 of the anime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

     Avilio almost wished they had kept the cart, rather than hear Nero complain about his driving any more. “You said you could drive,” Nero scoffed, getting nothing but furrowed brows and an irritated frown shot at him from his crappy driver. He stopped the car abruptly, causing the Vanetti to shout. Avilio’s knit brows relaxed and he settled into a cocky half-smile before going mute on his emotions once more.

 

     It was hard to believe that Nero had saved his life just last night; perhaps if he hadn’t known how much of an idiot the man was, he would feel a little guilty of what he planned to do with him. “We’re here,” Avilio said in his dead tone, opening up his door and stepping out. “You’re the worst driver I’ve met,” Nero stretched out his arms and legs, letting out a sigh when something popped. “My talents lies elsewhere,” Avilio snipped, motioning for Nero’s wallet. When Nero stared at him incredulously, he added. “I’m still in charge of buying food.”

 

     “You didn’t bring enough money for yourself?” Nero raised a brow, coughing up a smile when Avilio frowned. “Christ… get something other than canned pineapples, will you?” He patted the shorter man’s shoulder, noticing his body tense up and quickly went to swipe the man’s hat. He didn’t have it in his possessions for very long as Avilio immediately punched him in the gut. “Oof! Jesus _Christ,_ Avilio!” He wheezed, dropping the hat to hold his stomach. The younger man didn’t seem to care, hiding a smile when he bent down to pick up his hat.

 

     After dusting off his hat and slipping it on, Avilio took out the necessary amount of bills and stuffed the paper money into his coat pocket. “Be on the look out for any more assassins,” He said, Nero following after him once he caught his breath. “Which means: don’t get too drunk.” He pushed the wallet into Nero’s broad chest forcefully, not really knowing how rough he was, walking off for the corner store.

 

     Nero watched him go, distracted by the way his coat moved as he walked to how his hair would bounce with each step if he hadn’t a hat on. He checked the wallet, counting how much Avilio must have take. _Tch. Two dollars more._ He looked around himself, slipping the wallet into his pant pocket. He noticed a man stumbling out of the drugstore, looking much to carefree to be sober at _that_ age. He smiled. _A couple drinks wouldn’t hurt,_ He thought as he made his way to the drugstore.

 

* * *

 

  


     Avilio looked over the cans thoughtfully, checking for dents or any slight imperfection that could indicate any drop in worth. He hadn’t had the luxury of checking when he was younger, but he supposed being on the run with a rich boy like Nero gave him a few priveleges he wouldn’t have gotten in a poor gang.

 

     Upon hearing someone whistle, he turned his head to see a clean-looking man smiling right at him. He couldn’t have been any older than 24, his parents did right by him appearance-wise; golden hair that must have been silky to the touch, cool eyes that spoke many things but the main thing being one thing: _desire._ It had been a long time since Avilio had met someone so unashamed and open about their interest, especially since he couldn’t have been mistaken as a woman in any sense.

 

     “What’s someone like you doing looking over cans for?” His voice was sweet to ear, dripping with temptation and imagery. “I’m sure you can get an idea of what,” Avilio replied, closing him off with a turn. There was quiet, then. He put the cans of pineapple into the paper bag, counting the amount and evaluating the total cost when the man slipped into his senses again.

 

     “Don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” He tried again, easily taking the can out of Avilio’s hand. He feigned interest in the label, turning his hand and inspecting every bit of the can before delicately placing it in Avilio’s hand. _Soft._ Avilio thought, staring down at the man’s pale hands. _Never worked a day in his life._ “If this is all you can afford to get, why not let me assist you?” He suggested, his eyes already expecting something in return. “No.”

 

     The immediate response did nothing to shake the man’s confidence. “Just a drink, sweetheart.”

 

     Avilio purchased his cans, passing the man by and inspecting him one last time. They looked at each other, saying nothing. What’s the point of waiting for Nero? He was probably where this man was inviting him to go, anyway. _The drunk fool._ “All right.”

 

     The man smiled. “So what can I call you, sweetheart?”

  


* * *

 

 

     The speakeasy had all kinds of people. Nero could see common folk with richer blokes getting drunk in this enclosed space without titles. He smiled, taking a seat at the bar and waved the bartender over; he pushed a couple bills towards him, winking.

 

     “Hit me with the strongest thing you got. I wanna get roaring drunk.” He could practically hear Avilio in his head. _“How are we supposed to hold up if you go on a binge at every town?”_ He smiled to himself, taking the shot and drinking it down.

 

     Nero frowned at the glass, disappointment pooling into his eyes and dragging his smile. _Oh, well._ “Keep ‘em coming!”   
  
     “Mind if I join in?” He paused, turning to face the woman who took a seat beside him. _Wow._ He was really digging the long, raven hair that cascaded over her shoulders and the perfume she wore. She wasn’t anything fancy, but she was definitely a looker. “Please do,” He purred, focusing all his attention on her and the way she smiled. “Can I buy you a drink or something?” Nero couldn’t help but ask. “What would you like?”   
  
     “The strongest shit you can buy.” _Jesus Christ,_ he could fall for this. He slammed down a couple more bucks, pointing a thumb at the girl. “Another shot for Miss…?”

 

     “ _Bianca._ ”

 

     “For Miss Bianca!”

 

* * *

 

 _There he is._ Avilio’s eyes immediately went to the back of Nero, noting that he had a girl with him. _I should have just taken the wallet with me._ “What kind of drink would you like, sweetheart?”

 

     The man, _Antonio_ , invited him to sit at the far end of the bar table. Avilio shrugged, knowing nothing in this joint would knock him out. Antonio called the bartender over and paid for the drinks, slamming down more than enough for two drinks. _He must think he’ll get more than one drink with me._ He wanted to roll his eyes, but he took a shot, Antonio immediately filling up his cup again.

 

     “I’ve always been curious what it’s like to try another man,” Antonio confessed, taking little sips of his drink. “You get bored with the same thing over and over, and money can only do so much.”

 

     Avilio stared at the man coolly, not sure if Antonio wanted pity or if he expected him to be flattered that he’d pick him to fuck with. His eyes roamed from Antonio’s mouth to his shoulders, noting his other arm was hidden away. He looked away to spy on Nero, frowning more when he could hear him from where he was.

 

* * *

 

_Angelo missed Corteo. He regretted leaving now that he had no food left in this new world of people and streets and dangers. All he wanted was to be safe and survive, but he didn’t want to burden his friend. He knew Corteo could only support himself and his mother, and Angelo would just be another mouth to feed._

 

_He whimpered as the stomach pangs grew louder and carved at his insides. He needed money, or something to help sustain himself. He was too young to seek employment, and he doubted he’d be any help._

_"Thief! Get back here!!” Angelo turned at that, spotting an old man far off in the distance hollering at a young boy who pushed past him. He glanced down at what he dropped, picking up the apple and looking for the boy. He started to run after him._

 

* * *

 

     Antonio indulged in a few more shots, Avilio not touching his second. He let Antonio talk, his mind swimming in and out of the conversation to check on Nero.  

 

     He looked back to Antonio, his arms crossed and looking at Avilio expectantly. “Won’t you drink, sweetheart?” He tried to mask himself with an air of innocence. Avilio plastered on a smile, taking hold of the man’s face with a hand and pulling him in for a kiss.

 

     He kept Antonio there for a while, watching his eyes slowly close as he held the kiss, moaning into it. Avilio’s eyes crinkled, groaning into the kiss to distract him while his other hand had switched their drinks. He pulled away slowly, smirking.

 

     “I don’t need it,” He said, taking his cup regardless. “You might, though.” He pushed his empty glass away when he finished it, looking at Antonio expectantly.

 

     Antonio stared at Avilio for a while before smirking, himself. He ran a hand through his hair, sneakiness slipping into his smile once Avilio had finished drink. “So you’re agreeing to this?” He purred, finishing his glass in one go, unlike the previous shot.

 

     “I only agreed to a drink,” Avilio said bluntly, taking pleasure in the sudden change to Antonio’s expression. “Maybe next time, you shouldn’t rely on a drug.” He patted his shoulder, getting up from his chair and slipping Antonio’s wallet into his coat pocket.

 

     He clapped Nero on the back, pulling his attention from the drink, noticing that the girl had left. “Drunk as hell,” He frowned. “I told you to watch how much you drank.” _I suppose a girl would distract you like this._

     “Get up, we’re leaving.” Avilio didn’t wait for Nero to get up from his chair before making his way out the door.

 

* * *

 

     As Avilio drove, Nero stared at his window blankly. “I was so close,” He slurred, moping a bit. “We were about to kiss when I got distracted.”

 

     “That’s a shame,” Avilio droned, paying more attention to not crashing the car again than listening to Nero lament. A silence drew out between them, both thinking of other things when Nero spoke up again. “What were you doing getting drunk with some playboy?” He sounded upset by this. Avilio offered him a glance, raising his brow before looking back on the road. “That distracted you?”

 

     “I didn’t even know you swung that way!”

 

     “You didn’t need to know,” He took a sharp turn. “It upsets most people when they do.”

 

     “You still kissed him in public! _That_ draws more attention to us…”

 

     “That didn’t seem to matter,” He spoke in a hushed voice. “Just be happy _you_ weren’t the one I was kissing.”

 

     Silence hung in between them again, nothing to gain from complaining over nothing. Avilio stopped the car to pull out Antonio’s wallet, handing it to him. “You probably wasted all our money on that girl...” He froze, staring down at Nero who had squeezed his hand gently, wondering if that was the alcohol in his system. He took his hand away and continued driving, his eyes set on the road and nothing else. Nero Vanetti was more of a handful than he had realized.

 


	2. Chapter 2

  
  


     At some point in the drive, Nero had taken to driving. He had given Avilio way too many chances, and giving him one more would ensure their deaths. Needless to say, he couldn’t bring himself to trust Bruno with their second car. The decision seemed to disappoint Avilio, by the pout he wore when he thought Nero wasn’t watching

 

_      Sorry Avilio, _ He couldn’t help but smile, keeping his gaze on the road.  _ I can’t die just yet.  _ The Vanetti’s driving was smooth and steady, unlike Avilio’s delayed or impatient reactions. The bumpier road leveled out with the brunet in charge, and that fact irked Avilio greatly.  _ It’s not like I could learn everything. _

 

     Once they reached the next town, Nero took out Antonio’s wallet from his coat pocket, counting the amount. He whistled, amazed. “Holy shit, Avilio.” He grinned, glancing at the sullen rider next to him. “We really hit the jackpot, huh?”

 

     Avilio didn’t respond, extending his hand out for the wallet. Nero clicked his tongue, wagging his finger in a condescending manner. “No way,” He said, pushing the wallet back into his coat. “I’m sick of canned pineapples every damn day.”  
  
     The side of the young man’s mouth twitched into a frown,shifting in his seat to reach back and take out a can. “Suit yourself,” He muttered as he opened it up. Nero grimaced at how easily the pineapple slice slipped between his lips, leaving sugary remnants on his plump lips. He got frustrated with himself at how distracted he got with watching Avilio’s Adam's apple bob when he gulped. It reminded him way too much about the scene at the bar, with Avilio and that man. _A stranger._  
  
      “How can you eat this crap all the time?” He twisted his frustration towards Avilio, instead. It _was_ his fault that he was troubled over this. “We can afford to eat _anything_ else--”

 

     “ _ I _   can’t,” Avilio snapped, halting Nero’s complaining with a cutting glare. He always had to bitch about  _ something.  _ This wasn’t a get-away vacation, they were running for their  _ lives _ . He had no right to berate him on his living style when he was what made him the way he is. “I don’t have that luxury.”

 

     Nero pursed his lips, glaring at Avilio for a second. “Whatever,” He scoffed, getting out of the car while Avilio stayed in the passenger seat. “I’ll have a meal by myself, then!”  
  
     “Why not stop at a bar right after?” Avilio shot back, struggling to lose the raw quality his earlier statement had. “You can afford it, after all.”  
  


* * *

 

 

_      It didn’t have to end like this. None of this could have happened. None of this should have happened. Nero stared off into the darkness that ate away at the snow and gnawed on the trees. There was a tight knot in his stomach that had no right being there. He hadn’t wanted this.  _

 

_      The Lagusas didn’t even seem so bad. Of course, you could only know so much about the business when you were 14, but he liked to believe that they were reasonable people. Hell, before they even knocked he could hear the father, Testa Lagusa, calling out for his children. _

 

_      Was that a game they liked to play? Hide and seek? He imagined the reward for finding his kids was a big hug and excited “Welcome home!”s. It was a damn shame. _

 

_      A couple days after that night and any evidence of what occurred mostly taken care of, Nero pondered over the condemning evidence that got away: the boy. Did he make it? Had he died? Where was he now? The questions ate away at him, burying his conscience with guilt. _

 

_      Why did he let him get away? If he had killed him would the burden be quite as bad? He couldn’t have helped what happened to the family, save for that damn kid. He was too young to be thinking such awful thoughts, he realized. _

 

_      Perhaps he shouldn’t put much thought into it. Rather than doubt, he should fill his mind with nothing but his job. If he could drown himself in the moments maybe he wouldn’t dwell so much on the possibilities. _

 

* * *

 

 

     Nero blamed Avilio for making him think of the past, as well. The man always made him feel guilty, in some way. He didn’t have to say anything, but the Vanetti felt something in his stomach telling him he had done Bruno wrong. It was even more infuriating when he remembered all this stemmed from a stupid argument on canned foods.  _ Goddamn pineapples!  _

 

     He sat at one of the booths in the diner with crossed arms, unable to make up his mind on what to eat. It didn’t feel right eating without Avilio. The man was thin enough as he was, and for him to enjoy a meal without him there felt wrong to him. 

 

     He thought about what he said to him.  _ I don’t have that luxury.  _ Of course he did’t! Anyone could tell by his clothes and his restless, hunger-pained frame. He had only wanted them to indulge-- No, he had wanted to take out his earlier frustrations on him in the easiest way possible. He hadn’t realized what he said might have offended him, but now that he had…

 

     Nero left the restaurant, wearing a deep frown. He wanted to apologize to him. He wanted to make up for his careless words and ease the guilt. He wanted to understand Avilio and know what made him tick; he didn’t want Avilio to look at him with shrouded eyes.  _ He wanted to see Avilio Bruno. _

 

* * *

 

 

_      “Christ kid, you scared me.” Angelo succeeded where the old man failed: he found the thief. He caught him in an alleyway with no place to go, but as Angelo was now the boy could easily brush him off. He panted, catching his breath as he stared the older boy down with wild, determined eyes. The boy stared back, something keeping him from walking off. _

 

_      When the thief was about to say something, Angelo’s stomach interrupted. They stared at each other in silence. Then, the boy snickered. Angelo’s cheeks darkened, tears of embarrassment stinging his eyes. “Kid, you coulda said something!” The thief laughed, covering a side of his face with a hand. _

 

_      When the boy finally had his fill of laughter he motioned Angelo over. “C’mere,” He beckoned with a rich, welcoming voice. He opened up the sack he was carrying, taking an apple. He took a seat on the dirty pavement, whistling a tune before calling Angelo over again. “I’ll cut up your apple, if you’d like.” _

 

_      Angelo stared at him a while longer. He walked over to him cautiously, leaving a gap between them before squatting. He handed the boy his apple, watching him peel off the skin with the pocket knife he never realized he had. _

 

_      “Name’s Ladro,” The boy hummed, cutting up a slice of the apple and handing it to Angelo. “Now you tell me yours.” _

 

* * *

 

 

     Avilio didn’t like staying idle. If he stayed still and thought he’d start to feel unnecessary things.  _ Feelings. _ Of course, he  _ had _ them. He just couldn’t afford any of them to be stronger than his resolve. When he remembered that he’d start working.

 

     He locked his door, walking around the time to get information from the locals. He avoided the corner store since Nero could handle it himself. He had long since squeezed out and wrung his frustrations dry, only leaving a bitterness towards the Vanetti. He assumed Nero would expect an apology from him once they left- an apology that he wouldn’t be getting.

 

     When the light of the day was starting to fade into dusk, Avilio made his way back to the car. There was a town about a couple hours from where they were that had plenty of hotels and inns the two of them could stay in while there were cheap diners. One of the locals added that the town had plenty of  _ pretty dames _ if he was looking for distractions.  _ Nero might like that information. _

 

 _Speak of the devil._ Avilio was greeted by Nero waiting patiently by the car, carrying a pot in his arms. “Any news from Barbero?” He asked in his boring voice, trying to mask his curiosity.  
  
     “Huh?” Nero raised a brow. “Oh. Not really. He says we should keep moving, in case there are other Goliaths looking for us.”

 

     “I see.”

 

     Avilio waited, staring at Nero who looked back at him. Silence. ”Avilio,” Nero broke it with his name. The softness in the man’s voice caught Bruno’s attention. “I wanna apologize, if I offended you earlier.” Avilio’s surprise betrayed his stony expression. “I’m not used to living like this, but you’ve been with me all the way and have been saving my ass every chance.

 

     I should be more thoughtful with what I say to you. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, because I do appreciate you putting your lot with mine. Here.”

 

     He handed Avilio the pot, searching the man’s expression for anything. “I made it,” He added, when he didn’t get a clear enough reaction. “It’s Cioppino, Nero-style... first of its kind.”

 

     Avilio stared down at the pot, not sure what to say or how to even react. He removed the lid from the pot, the smell of shrimp and crab overwhelming him. He looked up at Nero, confused. He was met with a gentle smile that shook him to his core.  _ No. _

 

     Avilio said nothing. He dipped a finger into the soup, scooping up a shrimp. It tasted like shitty wine and watery tomato sauce, but the shrimp melted on his tongue. He glanced at Nero, speechless. 

 

     Nero said nothing, offering him a spoon. If Avilio wouldn’t do anything about his stained fingers, he’d take care of it for him. Maybe he’d get a reaction out of the man, possibly a smile.

 

     “It’s good,” Avilio managed after some time. Nero hadn’t realized he had continued eating it, but the man’s lips were painted red from the sauce. He swallowed at the sight of it, a lump making it hard to do so.  _ Had Avilio ever complimented him before? _

 

     “It’s good,” Avilio said again, his red lips having Nero’s full attention.  _ Like a woman’s. _ “For a first, that is.” Even  _ that  _ quickened his heartbeat, for some damn reason. Nero nodded, despite feeling lightheaded. “Well,” He croaked, managing a cocky smile. “You’re making a mess so wipe your face, all right?”

  
     Avilio smiled at that, a quick slip of honesty on his pretty face. _Jesus Christ._ Nero hoped for a distraction to this sudden predicament, this out of place  _ feeling _ , in the next town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoooo boi this one feels so ooc but i'm unsure of how to make this sound better weeps  
> not much happens in this chapter! avilio and nero argue and nero gets a case of the gay


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> avilio needs rest, nero finds a choice bit of calico, another flashback, maybe smut in the next chapter ???

  
  


_      I could kill him.  _ Avilio’s golden eyes flickered over to Nero on the small bed, his back to him and snoring filling the room and fueling Avilio’s thoughts. He stood by the window of their cheap hotel room, smoking a cig and releasing the fumes with a slow, steady exhale. The haze stung his eyes and hid Nero from his view until it dissipated from the air.  _ I could kill him, _ he thought again.

 

     He sniffed, swallowing the taste of bitter smoke and cigarette hard, his throat not letting it go down as he’d like.  _ Why am I here?  _ Vengeance. A puff of smoke sifted through the air with an escaped breath, Avilio takig a seat on his bed. He watched Nero carefully,the previous thought creeping on him again.  _ It’s too soon...  _

 

* * *

 

 

     It was strange for Nero to wake up and find Avilio still asleep. The man was always up first, no matter the time of day. Avilio never needed to be taken care of- this fact had been present since the very beginning. He was well aware of his capabilities, but it concerned Nero to see how Avilio cared for himself. 

 

     So to see Avilio still in his bed, getting some rest Nero thought he sorely needed, Nero couldn’t help but wonder why. Avilio always stayed up till the break of dawn, and even then. Had that lifestyle run the boy down enough to leave him like this? Nero took a seat beside the sleeping man, his expression soft but watchful. He huffed, ruffling his hair fondly before getting up and leaving the room.  _ The boy could use some rest. _

 

* * *

 

 

     Sleep had come easily to him, that night. It had enveloped him, pressed close to him, comforted him, bidding him sweet dreams like his mother once did. When he was Angelo, he and Luce would pick out flowers when there were any to pick for her. It was a playful competition that his brother took much too seriously. Angelo never picked out as many as Luce, but he had always found the prettiest of the batch while Luce grabbed greedily at anything he could find. There was no clear winner in this game, their mother never picking sides. 

 

     Avilio never thought about it before, he had never thought to divide his time properly when it came to his mind, but Luce must have been Elena’s favorite. He was a lot like her- his hair, his sweet face, his priorities- he had her mind, as well. 

 

     They were passive and submissive, while Avilio reasoned that he and Testa were the opposite. Elena and Luce were honest and trustworthy, and while he would vouch for his father’s character, Testa always thought. He thought and calculated and processed everything. He tried not to show that side to their family, at least not when Luce was around, but Angelo had always connected with his father.

 

     Testa would observe how a situation would go, his mind like steel and his resolve never faltering. It was when Elena was hurt that he broke character, acting on impulse and facing the consequence of it. Avilio wondered if his father regretted it. If he knew what he left for his family, then. 

 

_      But his father was not at fault. _

 

     Avilio smoldered in his sleep, his dreams simply thoughts and memories and analysis and anger that was just waking up. His eyes were heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and sleep. He didn’t want to sleep. 

 

* * *

 

 

     “We’re not leaving for a little while.”

 

     Nero came back to find Avilio still in bed, the only difference was that he was sitting and awake, but only barely. 

 

     “Are you forgetting you’re a wanted man?” 

 

     It irritated Avilio how Nero snickered. The man was too careless, too annoying, and he liked it better when he was grieving.  _ I could kill you. _

 

     “We won’t be able to go anywhere if you’re not completely rested,” Nero sipped his coffee, smiling at Avilio. “You’ll weigh us both down if you push yourself.” It was easier to look at Avilio now, the Vanetti believing the flicker of feeling he had felt that night was just surprise to see the man so genuine. When he frowned at him like this, as disappointing as it was to be look at that way, Nero could brush away that ‘attraction.’

 

     “So you want me to rest.”

 

     “Yes.”

 

* * *

 

 

     Her eyes were sharp, blazing bright like ambers. It caught Nero instantly, his own staring at her longer than he should. Her body was thin and tall, her raven hair cropped to her her neck which was bare for everyone to see. It had been a while since Nero had time to appreciate a woman, and when she regarded him the same attention he did her it clicked. He smirked. She scoffed, hiding her own.

 

* * *

 

 

_      “You hesitate too much.” _

 

_      Angelo looked up at Ladro, his hand which had been reaching for his pocket knife that was tucked in the back froze, guilt and humiliation flooding his eyes while his lips were set in a tight line. Fifteen, and he still couldn’t successfully pickpocket. _

 

_     “A pickpocket can’t afford to doubt,” Ladro chided, pausing a bit. “Probably can’t afford a lot of things, if he’s a pickpocket.” He smiled then, a curl of his lips that charmed many. It affected Angelo, but he had gotten better at suppressing that thought. He swallowed as Ladro took out a cigarette, lighting it up and breathed in, letting out a puff of smoke with an exhale. It enticed Angelo. Angelo’s golden eyes flicked to the side, regarding something else. His eyes had always distracted Ladro.  _

 

_      "My hands never do what I want them to do,” Angelo hushed, his gaze turning to the palm of his calloused hands. The used to be clean and soft, but the grueling task of living and all the shit- Ladro said he could describe things as such- that came with the streets had toughened his hands.  _

 

_      Ladro cocked his head, choking on a laugh, a smile, a smoke, and Angelo almost lost his breath. Ladro shook his head, looking at Angelo with a playful expression. He thought about making a joke, but he knew Angelo wouldn’t quite get it. _

 

_      “They’ll do exactly what you want if you trust yourself enough to stop overthinking,” Ladro passed him and ruffled up his dark hair, brushing his shoulder against him. Angelo followed after him. “You know, kid, there’s been something on my mind for a while now…” _

 

_      Ladro had always wondered why Angelo left his friend to live life in the slums. He didn’t talk much about his life before except for little snippets the boy had collected and pieced together in the two years of their companionship. He could still go back to that friend, but there was intensity to Angelo that attracted him, and there was a purpose as to why he chose to continue living like this. All it could do was harden him, and Angelo was not a hard kid in the slightest.  _

 

_      He looked at Angelo, searching his face, staring him down. What could he say? There were many things he wanted to say, but could he tell? Angelo could just leave him if he says the wrong thing, and he has tried before. He left Ladro for two weeks after telling about his old friend. He never even gave out a name. What could he ask? _

 

_      Angelo stared up at him. He was almost as tall as Ladro, now. Ladro regarded Angelo carefully, his eyes hinting at something intimate as he pushed a hand through his wild hair and smirked at the younger boy. “When you gonna cut your hair?” _

 

* * *

 

 

     Nero came back with that look. The look Ladro gave him those years back. The look Avilio had thought he had forgotten. The look that riled up his insides and left him breathless, but Ladro is dead and Nero relieves the sudden prickling up Avilio’s spine with “This town’s got some pretty dolls!”

 

     Avilio is already rested and as healthy as his thin frame could show, but he had a feeling their stay would be longer despite this fact. “You’re thinking of that when we’re supposed to be on the look out for hitmen like Goliath?” He sat up, having been slouching with a cig between his teeth as he had been unconsciously chewing on the end. 

 

     “From all we know, Big Mexico was the only man sent on our asses,” Nero scoffed, using his own endearing nickname for their failed assailant. “Don’t you wanna know who I caught yesterday? Why I didn’t come back until today?”

 

     “Whoever it was, I doubt it was my kind of ‘catch,’” Avilio looks out the window, his eyes sliding to the worn out window pane. “Well, she’s got this short ass black hair, and cat-like eyes,” Nero began, ignoring Avilio’s disinterest completely. 

 

     “I was right.” 

 

     “She’s pretty sassy, too! She isn’t loud, though. Avilio, she just says what she wants and just keeps walking… And the way she walks!”   


  
     “Probably right by you.”

 

     “Oh, you two would get along fine,” There was no way of dragging Nero down right now. It was very annoying, that some random gal could make a grown ass man act like he was fifteen. All Nero could really get from the relationship would be sex, anyway. Avilio’s eyes flickered.  

 

     “You better get to it so we can leave for the next town, then.” Avilio got up from the bed to smother his cigarette in the ashtray on the window sill.

 

     “Get to what?”

 

     Avilio turned to look up at Nero, regarding him carefully. Nero tensed under Avilio’s entrancing stare, wondering if he was an idiot to the man.

 

     “Sex.”

 

_      “Excuse me?” _

 

     “We don’t plan on staying, so tell that girl you have tonight but you’ll be leaving tomorrow.” Avilio continued to stare Nero down, silencing any word he could say before he could even open his mouth. “This will be your only chance to…  _ indulge,” _ The word stuck to his throat, the idea that Nero would indulge on some  _ girl _ strangely disgusting him. “So tell her what you want and  _ get to it. _ ”

 

     Nothing happened the moment after that. It was like time froze, until Nero laughed. The laugh struck Avilio in a strange way, and he hated the way the sound of it made his stomach tighten. “I just,” Nero laughed nervously. “I know you’re blunt, but I never thought you’d say it like that.” Avilio faked a smile, imagining how nice Nero’s face would look if he was gasping for air. 

 

     “Didn’t think a wet towel like you would think about that stuff.” Nero recalled the night he had gotten drunk with that lady while some guy was getting too close to Avilio. The fact that Avilio drank with him could explain his lack of interest in women, but he didn't seem to have had plans to... besides, Avilio always had such a hateful look about him, he probably never had sex before!  _Might explain the scowl, actually._

 

     “I’m just better at hiding them than you are,” Avilio bit back, brushing his shoulder past Nero and walking out of their room. _I'm good at hiding most things._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter isn't as good as my other chapters so i apologize for the long wait as well as the quality of this one!! school has been bringing me down otl

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this guys! I just want you guys to know in advanced that I have this all planned out and I should be able to upload a chapter weekly, if possible; this series has an ending so don't worry I'll try not to leave you guys hanging winks  
> Please comment down below and tell me your thoughts! I'm still improving and it'd be nice to know what you guys think <3


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